Of Dates and Chicken Soup
by kurosakiami01
Summary: Keith is sick, and he wants his chicken soup. That strange door man won't take it from him! - Klance. One Shot.


**WARNINGS:** dorky boys. Gay thoughts. Tomato soup hate.

 **AN:** I had too much fun writing this. Enjoy!

* * *

 **OF DATES AND CHICKEN SOUP**

He sighs as he looks up to the bright sign on the store's entrance, but quickly looks down before the neon lights can make his headache worse.

His throat hurts and he is pretty sure that he has a fever, but he simply can't skip tomorrow's morning class—it is vital to pass the midterm exam next week, and Keith _needs to pass that exam._ But if he's as sick as a dog in the morning and simply can't get out of bed then he won't go to class tomorrow, and if he doesn't go to class he will fail his exam, and if he fails his exam he can kiss his scholarship goodbye and start planning his life as a bum on the streets.

Okay so he might be exaggerating. Slightly. But he really does need to get better—and soon.

Keith furrows his eyebrows and fixes his scarf with gloved hands. He is still standing in front of the store, but has not yet decided if it is worth it going in and spending two dollars on a can of soup or not.

"Excuse me," a nasal voice says at his back and Keith turns. The person behind him is covered in winter clothes heavier than his, and the only thing Keith can see of their face is a pair of annoyed blue eyes and a rather red nose. "Can you move? Some of us really need to go through that door, not use it as a mirror to fix our hair."

Taken aback, Keith's eyes grow wide. Then he narrows them and snaps defensively, "I wasn't using it as a mirror! I was just—I was about to go in!"

"Sure you were." The stranger's mocking tone gets on Keith's nerves. "I don't see you moving, pretty boy."

Keith splutters at the choice of words and he can swear the stranger is grinning behind his scarf. Embarrassed and annoyed, he doesn't raise to the bait and instead turns his back on them, striding through the store's door without a backward glance.

He tells himself that he doesn't hear them laughing behind him.

* * *

The truth is that he's broke.

Most college students living on their own without a family to support them are, but knowing that doesn't change his mood. Keith is broke and barely has enough money for rent and cheap food, and he bought groceries two days ago. Does he really need that stupid soup? He will get better soon, anyway. It is just a stupid cold.

But the soup can help him get better sooner, and he has his morning class tomorrow…

Keith groans mentally as he passes another shelf with bathroom products. Where is the soup again? He hates being sick _so much_ , and he hates being lost in the damn store he goes to buy his groceries every week! Have the owners changed things around, or is his fever affecting him more than he thought?

There!

He stops for a second and changes directions, hurrying towards the soup stock and already inspecting the cans in search of the one he wants. He scrunches up his nose at the first one. Tomato soup. Ugh, he hates tomato soup with a passion. Where is the chicken soup? He knows that chicken soup is the best choice when you are sick.

Tomato. Tomato. Tomato.

 _Eww!_ he thinks, disgusted, as he sees one particular can, _Mushroom!_

Where is the chicken?

Tomato.

Tomato, tomato, tomato…

"Chicken!" he cries out in happiness and literally jumps to grab the only can of Campbell's chicken noodle soup in the whole aisle, only to bump fingers with another person that has reached for it at the same time.

"Oh, no. You are not taking my chicken soup, pretty boy. I need it," says the door stranger, and Keith looks up in slight shock.

The stranger has taken off both his blue beanie and his scarf, and now Keith notices that he is, in fact, a he. And he's scowling at Keith.

Keith mirrors his expression, jutting his chin out stubbornly. "Well, I need it more."

"Nuh-uh. I don't think so," the guy sniffles pointedly and Keith realizes that his nose is red because he has been constantly wiping it off with a paper tissue. "And besides, I totally grabbed it first."

"No, you did not!"

"I did! Look, see your fingers there? They are slightly over mine, which means that I totally grabbed it first."

"You—you cheater! You just pushed your fingers beneath mine!"

"Did not!"

"You did!"

"Did not!"

"You totally did!"

"Preposterous!"

"Fuck off! This is _my_ chicken soup, get a tomato one!"

"I don't want tomato! I want chicken!"

"Too bad, the chicken is mine!" Keiths says triumphantly as he finally pries the can away from the guy's hand. He immediately hugs it close to his chest protectively, daring the other boy to try and take it away from him.

The guy looks at him for a second and then just snorts, covering his mouth with one hand to hide his smile, and Keith suddenly realizes that he has been loudly arguing with a stranger for minutes over a _can of soup._

He can't help it—he blushes. His ears and neck feel as if they are on fire, and he is sure that his cheeks have colored pink. Curse his Asian ancestry.

"Oh my God, man. I can't believe this, you are just too cute!" the guy says between laughs, and Keith really wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole already. "You can keep that soup, if you want it that badly. Tomato is kinda meh, but I can make do." His smile is broad and bright as he shrugs and grabs a different can of soup, and Keith's breath gets caught in his throat.

He lowers his face so that his hair covers his eyes and mutters a weak, "Thanks."

The strange door man is about Keith's age, hot as fuck, and has a smile that could rival the sun. And Keith is _so gay._

"You're welcome, dude. We gotta fight these colds somehow, huh?" he says as they start to walk together towards the cashier, a girl named Allura that Keith has known for some time.

"Mmm."

"Say. Do you need to go somewhere right now, or can I convince you to eat your soup with me? I have a microwave."

Keith snaps his head back up so fast that he wonders if he will get backlash later. The other boy is looking at him with a quirked eyebrow and a cocky smile, though the effect is a bit ruined by his running, red nose and the slight nervousness Keith can see flashing in his eyes.

Keith opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, unable to answer as his brain furiously tries to process the request.

Is he—

Is he asking Keith on a _date?_

"Uh, eh, never mind…"

"YES."

He is shocked at the vehemence in his voice as he answers, and going by the widening of the other boy's eyes, he is, too.

"What?"

"I mean I—I don't have to go anywhere. Right now. So…" Keith fidgets and passes the can from one hand to the other. "So you can try to convince me to eat my soup. With you. Yeah," he finishes lamely. He isn't worried though, because as he looks sideways at the strange door man, he sees that the smile is back on his face. "But, um. You should tell me your name first. I can't keep calling you 'strange door man' in my head."

Strange door man laughs merrily at that, and Keith can't help but join him with some chuckles of his own. Then the boy straightens, and he winks at Keith.

"Name's Lance. Yours, pretty boy?"

Keith is sure that the blush will not disappear from his face anytime soon. "Keith."

Lance throws an arm over Keith's shoulders and pulls him closer. "Well, Keith, let's go pay for our soups now, so we can go eat them and get to know each other better, eh?"

Keith smiles, headache completely forgotten. "Sounds about right."


End file.
